CHAPTER TWO — RULE NUMBER ONE
Emilia stared at the contract as if it were a venomous snake coiled on the table, waiting to strike. Her fingers hovered above the pen, trembling slightly with the weight of what this decision could do to her life.
No normal person signed something like this—
Six months bound to one of the most powerful, intimidating men in the country.
But Emilia Hart wasn't normal.
She was desperate.
Desperation made people bold…
or catastrophically foolish.
Ares Donovan watched her in a silence that cut sharper than any blade. He didn't blink. Didn't shift. Didn't soften.
He simply waited—
like a man who already knew the outcome.
"Before I sign," Emilia said, forcing her voice to remain steady, "I need to know… what exactly am I to you in this arrangement?"
Ares moved.
One slow step.
Then another.
Until he stood close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. The quiet power. The restrained tension. His cologne—clean, expensive, and impossible to ignore—wrapped around her like a whispered warning.
"You," he said, voice low and controlled, "are someone I need. Someone who fits a role I cannot trust just anyone with."
"That doesn't answer my question," she whispered.
A ghost of a smirk touched his lips—barely there, more challenge than amusement.
"You'll understand soon enough."
"That's not comforting," she murmured.
"Good." Ares's voice deepened. "Comfort is not part of our agreement."
Her pulse stumbled.
"What is part of it?"
Ares lifted the contract, tapping the first page with one finger.
"Discretion."
He tapped again.
"Loyalty."
Then his eyes locked with hers.
"And presence."
"Presence?" Emilia echoed. "As in… being around you?"
"Everywhere I need you," Ares said. "Events. Meetings. Dinners. Situations where appearance matters."
"Why me?"
His gaze shifted just slightly—softening in a barely noticeable way. A hint of something human. Something he tried to bury.
"Because you're different."
Her breath caught. "That's not really an answer."
"It's the only one you get for now."
He stepped back, but only enough to retrieve the folder from his desk. The space between them still buzzed, charged, alive with a tension she wasn't ready to name.
"Emilia," he said, "you can walk out. But you won't get this chance again."
"You make it sound like you're doing me a favor," she murmured.
"I am."
"And what do you get out of it?"
Ares's expression locked down immediately. The shift was instantaneous, like steel slamming into place.
"That," he said slowly, "is not your concern."
A chill slid down her spine.
He was hiding something.
Something heavy.
Something dangerous.
And the more he avoided the topic, the more she sensed that this arrangement was only the surface of something far deeper.
Ares turned to the window, hands sliding into his pockets, posture rigid.
"Sign the contract, Emilia."
She looked at the document again.
Her name printed cleanly.
Six months.
Six months of her life, traded for stability, protection, and money she needed more than pride right now.
"Six months," she whispered. "Only six."
"It will pass faster than you expect."
"And after that?"
"You walk away. Debt-free. Free to rebuild your life. Free to start over."
His voice lowered, almost too soft.
"I'm offering you freedom."
Her throat tightened.
"This doesn't feel like freedom," she said.
"No," Ares answered. "But that's because you're standing at the beginning."
The beginning.
Something in the way he said it made her chest twist.
Did that mean the ending… might be different?
Before she could talk herself out of it, Emilia gripped the pen.
Her signature formed slowly, each stroke heavy with consequence.
She set the pen down with a shaky exhale.
Ares turned toward her.
His expression didn't change, but something in his eyes glittered like a dark victory.
"It's done," she whispered.
"Yes," he said. "It is."
He approached her again with slow, deliberate steps—steps that felt like they claimed more than the space between them.
"Now," he murmured, "we begin."
Her stomach knotted. "What happens now?"
"You learn the rules."
Ares reached into his desk, retrieving a sleek black folder. When he handed it to her, their fingers brushed.
A spark shot through her.
Unmistakable.
Unwanted.
Dangerously real.
He stiffened, withdrawing his hand sharply, as though the brief contact had been too revealing.
"Read them tonight," he said. "Memorize them."
"How many rules are there?"
"Seven."
"That sounds like a lot."
"It's not," Ares said. "But every one of them is non-negotiable."
"And rule number one?" she asked.
Ares leaned in.
Closer.
Closer.
His breath brushed her ear. His voice wrapped around her like a forbidden touch.
"Rule number one, Emilia: you do not lie to me."
A shiver ran down her spine.
Ares straightened, clearing his throat as if the moment had been too intimate—too honest.
"You'll be picked up at eight tomorrow morning," he said. "Wear something simple. Elegant."
Her brows pulled together. "For what?"
"Our first appearance together."
"That fast?"
"Everything moves fast now." His eyes drifted over her—slowly, deliberately, as if evaluating every detail. "Get used to it."
Emilia hugged the black folder to her chest, a flimsy shield against the strange intensity between them.
Ares walked her to the elevator. He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't cold either. Polite. Controlled. Almost gentle.
When the doors slid open, he placed a hand on the metal frame, stopping her.
"Emilia."
She looked up.
His eyes swept over her face silently, reading her too easily.
"Don't be scared," he said.
"I'm not," she lied.
Ares's lips curved—not cruel, but knowing.
"You will be."
The elevator doors slid shut.
The moment he disappeared, Emilia's knees weakened. Her heart hammered so hard it hurt.
She had just signed away six months of her life.
To a man who hid secrets behind every word.
A man whose presence burned too hot.
A man she didn't understand—but feared she soon would.
As the elevator descended, one truth settled into her bones:
She hadn't stepped into an arrangement.
She had stepped into a storm.
And Ares Donovan…
was only just beginning to show how dangerous he could be.